


oxycotin [kuroo x reader x suna]

by folkloeren



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluffy, Friends to Lovers, Haikyuu - Freeform, Love Triangles, hq, inarizaki kuroo, inarizaki!kuroo, kuroo x reader - Freeform, suna x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folkloeren/pseuds/folkloeren
Summary: kuroo was a safe place. he was the comfort brought by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, warm hugs on a winter day, and sweet smiles given to no one in particular.but suna was the butterflies on your stomach. the thrill of exploring unknown places, the breeze pounding on your face on hot days, and the feeling of cold water in your unprepared body.not even in your wildest dreams, you imagined yourself without one of them. but you'd find soon enough that they can not coexist in your heart. it's your responsibility to choose which one to abandon.inarizaki!kuroo x reader x suna.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/You, Kuroo x reader, Kuroo/Reader, Suna Rintarou/Reader, Suna Rintarou/You, Suna x Reader, Suna/Reader, Suna/You, kuroo/you
Comments: 11
Kudos: 174





	1. bittersweet love and cold mornings

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my 2nd work posted here! i'm used to writing but I may add that enligsh is NOT my first language! so feel free to correct me if you find something odd, tho please do it respectfully. thank you and enjoy your reading, i'm always down to comments too, don't be shy!
> 
> also, this story is also being posted on quotev under the same username (folkloeren).

The wind was cold that morning, attacking both of your cheeks like needles, giving them a light flush. You wrapped your scarf more tightly against your neck, hiding your face in between the red wool.

You could hear voices now. Between the whispers of the wind, you thought you could hear Aran's soft voice raising in a question, and Kita answering. You were quick on your feet to reach them, your shoes slapping against the gray brick floor. 

And then, you were there. You couldn't quite grasp the reason behind your friends’ exquisite choice of table. It was cold outside and yet, here they were, sitting near the trees.

"Good morning," you complimented, sitting on the free chair.

"Good morning Y/N," Kita answered, going back to his math book.

Something seemed to snap in the boy's mind as he looked at you again, wide-eyed.

"What are you doing here?!" 

You raised your eyebrows, fishing the bag with freshly made bentos and a thermos bottle filled with tea from your backpack.

"I study here," Aran rolled his eyes. "Plus, I brought you guys extra food!"

"You are sick!" Insisted Kita.

"I _was_ sick," you corrected him.

"Still, it's the coldest day of the year and your stamina is low," retorted Aran.

Your friends were both right and wrong – mostly right. You knew it wasn't the best day to attend classes, after all, you missed two days already thanks to your allergies, it wouldn't kill you to lose one more day to fully recover. Though you couldn't stand your sister's piercing gaze towards you anymore, the way she looked at you like it was your obligation to go to school even with a killing headache.

"Just eat your bentos," were your final words.

And they did, leaving the one both assumed it was for Kuroo. The boys had morning practice today, and you knew extra food wouldn't kill them. 

Kuroo appeared minutes later. Your childhood friend smiled at you, causing your heart to clench. That faint pain that had existed behind your ribs ever since the last time you saw him had gone and suddenly became both better and worse — less painful, more like a butterfly wildly flapping its wings under your heart.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed accusingly. "You should be resting!"

"I brought you bento!" You said once again, believing that food was the solution to free you from your friends' anger.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes, proceeding to give a five minutes lecture before quitting and eating the reminiscent bento. Kita scoffed and you winked at him.

"So, what did I miss?" You questioned, expecting to receive the subjects you lost these past two days.

"Nothing, just me meeting the love of my life," answered Kuroo.

Aran groaned and Kita searched for his earphones. The butterfly that once kissed your heartbeats now seemed to be crushing it, slowly stealing your breath away. 

"Elaborate," you managed to whisper.

Kuroo started to explain about this certain girl from your class who saw him struggling with an English task. How she was the prettiest and smartest girl he'd ever lay his eyes on. You felt dizzy. 

You've been trying to catch his attention ever since your fourteenth birthday when he grabbed your hand under the starlight and gave you a breathtaking smile. The lost nights studying hard the subjects he enjoyed, seeing cartoons he recommended, and writing him poetry he'd never read. You felt like your life was a cruel joke. It took 'Hayashi Miyuki' one day to steal Kuroo's eyes away from you. The eyes you've been trying for four years to notice you.

The only thing steadying you were the hot surface of the bottle of tea you held, almost burning the palm of your hands as you tried to fake interest.

You turned slightly at Aran, your eyes screaming for help in silent prayer. The other narrowed his eyes at you, not fully understanding your request, at least that's what you imagined. Though you knew Aran was respectful and would never pry in your business.

"Kuroo, she's not interested" Aran finally intervened. "I'm sure Y/N was talking about school."

Kuroo sighed dramatically, whining about how no one wanted to hear about his love story. You'd hear everything he had to say, no matter how uninterested you were or how much you disliked his words. At least that's what you always thought. Nothing ever prepared you to listen to Kuroo's rambles about someone else and you feel guilty.

It was your job as his best friend, you were the one he searched whenever he felt like it, and you should be there for him no matter what. You could see it in his eyes how badly he wanted to talk about her, but just this time you allowed yourself to be selfish and not to listen to him.

The voices of the second years could be heard from afar and you knew it was time to leave them. You muttered a _thank you_ to Aran before getting up from the table, grabbing the empty bag to throw it in the trash.

"Y/N," Kita called, making you turn at him. "Can we talk later about the volleyball team?"

Weird question. You shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

You left after it, passing through the new crowd of students. The wind attacked you once again, its whispers blowing some strands of your hair away from your face. You wrapped yourself closer to your scarf, imagining how ridiculous you must've looked with your messy hair flying all over the place.

The polished hardwood of the corridor felt familiar against your feet. You plucked your earphones, skipping the love songs that came in the shuffle. Not that you had anything against people singing about oxytocin and the ways it made them feel, but sometimes they reminded you of Kuroo. And _that's_ what you hated.

You ignored the snarky comments that always seemed to follow you. "Miss President" was the most common one, though you weren't even a part of the Student Council anymore.

Your sister constantly said that women in power scared men away, you didn't disagree, after all, the stupid comments started thanks to others' sexism and intolerance towards you. Unfortunately, it escalated to the point where even girls started to dislike you and call you incompetent. 

_Cold, desperate for approval, teacher's whore._

You'd like to look in the mirror and guarantee yourself that none of that hurt you; that you were smart and successful and that was the reason behind their behavior – they were jealous of you. But the truth was a hard pill to swallow and sooner or later you'd have to admit that they simply disliked you. In the end, the path to be the successful woman your sister wanted you to was so lonely that you forced yourself to quit it.

"Like the coward that you are," you whispered to yourself, walking straight to class.

As expected, you were the only one there. You sat near the window, opening your notebook and writing important things down while sipping from your tea.

Hayashi Miyuki's name was an insistent bug crossing your mind every once in a while, buzzing annoyingly and destroying your line of thought. You hated it. You wanted to go back in time and tell the younger Y/N a lie, inventing a terrible future where she fell in love with Kuroo and lost him. You wanted to scream though you knew you couldn't. You wanted to be like the cold wind of winter, to fly away and meet other places, to run from Kuroo and everything he made you feel.

You could barely remember the days when Kuroo was just your best friend when you two walked together with melting ice creams in hand. When your breath didn't catch in your throat whenever the sun kissed his cheekbones.

It was funny to think that even if he was never yours, you were always his.

The bell finally rang, screaming right into your ears and bringing back the slight ache in your head. Slowly, the students started to appear, their voices echoing through the once silent classroom. Aran smiled at you as he sat behind you, Kuroo following his steps and taking the chair beside you. 

The teacher gave the typical 'good morning', his tone was bored, almost dead. You wondered if he was truly happy with the perspective of teaching teenagers for the rest of his life, or if he was like your sister.

You can't explain the reason behind your sudden interest when he called out the students' names – honestly, you did, but it was hard to admit it. When her name was finally called, it was like a punch right into your guts.

Hayashi Miyuki honored the meaning of her name; her hair was straight, long, and dark, contrasting with her pale skin. You couldn't say if the blush on her cheeks were natural or not, though it looked perfect on her. She was ethereal, carrying a light in her eyes that died on yours when you turned thirteen. You could understand Kuroo's attraction towards her, Hayashi Miyuki carried something special about her, like the winter. She could freeze you to death, though she was so pretty that you wouldn't mind dying by her hands.

Your head turned slightly at Kuroo, who was, unfortunately, looking at you already. He had a terrible grin on his face, giving you a thumbs up, probably assuming that you were staring out of curiosity, thanks to his words from before. _How wrong he was._

Kuroo used to be a breath of fresh air, holding your body close, and bringing you the comfort you needed. Now, his touch was poison, killing you slowly as you choked with your feelings.


	2. strong perfume and warm nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooooo, i fell in love with kuroo at least more four times while writing this chapter. hope you guys enjoy it!

Your eyes fought to maintain themselves open but the subject didn’t help at all, and you were already feeling a little dizzy, cursing yourself for drinking the whole tea so quickly, almost acting as if the drink could heal your wounds caused by Kuroo. Spoiler alert: it couldn’t. Now, not only you were still hurting, but sleep was also coming to you, singing a sweet and tempting lullaby.

Of course, you could’ve slept better if anxiety decided it was time to give you a sweet break; though the feeling of drowning on nothing stayed inside of your heart during the whole night, laughing at your failed attempts to shut the stupid comments down. They barely made sense. Two times, you got up just to check if you closed the fridge’s door, even if you knew for sure that you did. Anxiety just thought it was funny to smile while seeing you struggle.

The first period was over and you were craving for a pillow, but you knew that was the only opportunity of the day to see Kita, and you promised him to talk about the volleyball club. Walking with your earphones on, you pretended to be far away from Inarizaki, hell, even far away from Japan. The purple bags under your eyes screamed that you were exhausted, to say the least. 

“But you’re an empathic dumbass that can’t say no,” you whispered to yourself.

Kita was near the machines, probably ordering the coffee with terrible taste and a questionable origin. His grey hair with dark strands always was something to spike your curiosity, though you never dared to ask if he dyed them, assuming that perhaps he did. Anyway, you’d like to say you were attracted to that part of him, but you weren’t. The only person who was able to get to your heart was him.

“Hey,” you called. Kita turned at you with a smile, holding his coffee with his right hand.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m assuming you came to talk about volleyball, right?”

You nodded and you two sat side by side on the bench nearby. Kita offered you a sip of his coffee, but you declined. The price of it was absurd and the plastic cup was rather small, it would be unpleasant of you to accept a drink that was only offered by education. 

“What was that you wanted to discuss? If it Kuroo broke another bench by running after Atsumu,” you started, but Kita only giggled and waved his hand to dismiss your rambling.

“The qualifiers are soon to begin,” he said. “We’ll have some matches against other teams of Hyōgo Prefecture-”.

“Oh, I know,” you interrupted. “And if you guys win, Inarizaki will attend the Nationals, right?”

Kita’s eyebrows knitted and his eyes were wide. You understood why. You never showed any interest in volleyball, only attending the matches sometimes, when the Student Council’s tasks weren’t much. Still, you did it to support your friends. If others cheered, you’d do it too, if they seemed down, you’d be too. You knew nothing about the rules, positions, or and points.

“Kuroo talks about it all the time. I wish he’d sometimes remind himself that I can’t understand a thing. A setter? What is that? Looks like a name you’d give to a chic type of bread.”

Kita laughed openly this time, which made you kinda proud. You weren’t known for being funny, so seeing such a commotion over your joke was a nice thing.

“Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo. I could easily fall in love with that guy just with the number of times you talk about him.”

You blushed, not realizing the number of times Kuroo’s name left your mouth. Hell, if talking about him was already enough, imagine if people found out how much you think about your childhood friend.

“Don’t worry though, your secret is safe with me,” he winked.

“Can we not talk about my relationship status right now?!” You exclaimed exasperatedly. 

Kita shrugged. “Ok, I’ll go straight to the point.”

“Thank you,” the air you didn’t know you were holding left your lungs.

“It’s going to be tough, sometimes we’ll have two matches per day. I can’t even imagine the work I’ll have when we reach the Nationals.”

You noted the use of “when”. That word held so much power and pride, showing the confidence he felt towards his team’s abilities. Must be nice having someone to trust you that bad; someone who is certain of your potential, and helps you grow. You sighed internally, remembering the times when the Student Council looked down on you. Could things be different if you had at least a tiny amount of support?

“I imagine the pressure, Kita-kun,” you answered, imagining he needed someone to vent with.

“Right? We could use a hand, you know?”

You raised one of your eyebrows, trying to assimilate where he intended to go. 

“You want me to find you guys a manager? I mean, I could try, but people don’t like me,” you offered and he sighed.

“Y/N,” Kita called slowly. “We want you to be the manager.”

You almost gasped. The engines on your brain started to work endlessly, trying to find a reason behind his request. Of course, it must be hard being on his feet: a captain trying to cope with a bunch of teenagers, having no support apart from the coach’s. But calling you, you out of everyone?

“Kita-kun, I’m not fit for the job,” you cried.

“You bring us extra food every morning!”

“Still!”

“You’re also responsible, reliable, smart, and knows how to deal with Kuroo, which is a bonus,” he insisted.

“I know nothing about volleyball,” you retorted, though you were aware that it was a lost fight.

“It’s not that hard, and you can learn. Also, weren’t you the one complaining about having the afternoons free?” Kita questioned with a grin.

You tried to think of another reason to refuse it, but, besides personal reasons, you found none. Your friends spent the last six months trying to convince you to do things without thinking about your sister’s reaction. But one thing was to quit the Student Council, another different thing was joining a volleyball club as a manager. Your sister would kill you if she found out.

“You don’t need to accept it,” Kita mended, holding your hand. “We knew our chances were low, but I had to give it a shot.”

You nodded. Your tongue was about to mutter a sorry; sorry for refusing it, sorry for letting your friends down, but how could you? His eyes held a spark of hope that you found yourself unable to kill. How bad could it be, anyway? He was right, you just needed to learn the basics of the sport, give them water bottles, and pay attention to their schedule. Compared to the perks of being President from the Student Council, a manager was an easy task.

Still, when you were only a step further to agreeing, you saw your sister’s eyes; the way they looked at you so angrily, and how everything about her posture started to call you a disappointment. 

“Give me a few days, please,” you pleaded. “I’ll need to think this through.”

Kita smiled. “Sure! It’s already a better answer than a straight “no”!"

You got up, realizing Kita’s coffee was already cold by the time you two finished talking. His hand was red from the hotness of the plastic surface and you sighed, aware of the fact that sometimes your friends would neglect their physical pain to keep going. You scolded them many times about it, only to find purple bruises that weren’t there before.

“Kita, your hand,” you said, causing him to gulp.

Kita put the cup beside him on the bench. “Sorry, Y/N, I was too endorsed in our conversation to notice.”

“It’s fine, just be careful next time,” you shrugged, hugging yourself when the cold hit you again.

“Also, our matches will start in two weeks, so…”

You nodded, already catching on the hidden meaning behind his words. So be quick, we need time to find a new manager. Which, honestly, would be hard. Kita kept complaining at the beginning of the year, stating that it was impossible to find a manager ever since the Miya twins joined the team. Every person they interviewed seemed to be applying only to be next to them. Because of that, of course, they would need extra time to find someone that wasn’t you.

In the second period, you had English. To resume one excruciating hour in fewer words: it was painful. The fact that you were great on that subject seemed to fly away from Kuroo’s mind, in an instant, he started to believe that Miyuki was the only one who knew about the language.

Apparently, to Kuroo, she could teach him better than the teacher herself, which caused a trace of bitterness in your tongue that you disliked deeply.

If Kuroo asked Miyuki to join Inarizaki’s team as manager, would she? But he wouldn’t do it, right? He barely knew her! Though they weren’t going to be known friends with the next girl either.

Stop. You can’t make your decisions over jealousy, you can’t be so dependant of Kuroo, he won’t be there forever, one day, you’ll only have yourself. And that’s on who you should decide whether to accept the offer; not on Kuroo, not on your sister, but yourself.

When the bell rang, you so relievedly bit your goodbyes and went back to your shared apartment with your sister. The afternoon almost killed you, since, as Kita said, you weren’t used to having them free. You studied for three hours, ate, and even cleaned your bedroom, even though you’ve done the same thing yesterday.

At 9, your sister sent you a message saying that she’d spend the night working. Not at all odd, since it was something she did a lot, though you couldn’t call being a workaholic a good way to cope with sadness, stress, and grief.

You grew too bored too fast, going to bed early and forcing yourself to close your eyelids, even with anxiety’s presence convincing you that you should be worried over something. You promised Kita to give him an answer, but instead of it, you ignored that thought for the whole day. Slowly, the guilt started to eat your insides; you knew he gave you time, not two weeks but not only one day, to think about it. But you were used to blaming yourself for things that weren’t your fault.

The world went silent when your breath calmed itself down. Your sleep was heavy, so much that you barely realized your phone ringing under your pillow. Kuroo’s name shined on the display, and you knew he wasn’t expecting you to answer him. Instead of it, he wanted you to open your window for him to enter using the fire escape.

The coldness of the polished floor itched against your feet when you pulled the glass to left, allowing his tall figure to enter in swift moments. Kuroo couldn’t give himself the luxury to hit on your window, since your sister could hear you two from her bedroom. Too drunk on sleep to care, you laid on your bed again, sighing contentedly when in contact with the warm sheets again.

"Y/N", Kuroo said impulsively, his voice barely a whisper. “Can I stay?”

It was their code, the short version of the longer request: Stay and make me forget my nightmares. Stay and sleep next to me. Stay and chase the bad dreams away, the memories of abandonment and absent parents.

It was a request you'd both made, more than once. Since you were little kids, you'd crawl into each other's beds to sleep.

You moved aside, voice muffled from drowsiness. "Stay."

Kuroo crawled in under the covers beside you. You made room for him, trying your best to make Kuroo and his long body as comfortable as possible. He moved closer, the heat irradiating from his form.

“Want to talk?” You asked, turning to look at him.

“Just anxious,” he whispered, his hand found your ear as he caressed the spot, knowing quite well you slept quicker if he did that.

“You’re cheating,” you stated, feeling your eyelids getting heavy. He chuckled.

“I don’t want you to worry, that’s all,” Kuroo caressed your cheek now.

“I’ll worry anyway,” you answered.

“I know, still don’t want you to,” you giggled, leaning in his touch. 

“Anxious over volleyball?” You stubbornly questioned, your eyes were merely a thin line.

“Yeah,” Kuroo sighed. “It’s our last year, last shot. I guess it’s hard not to feel a little pressure.”

That was a part of him only you knew, and you were proud of it. No one could touch this side of Kuroo, the fragile one that worried over small and big things; the side that he tried so hard to hide, hating to feel vulnerable, hating to speak it out loud. It was never this way with you. He always talked about it, always looked out for you. You felt that Hayashi Miyuki could never take this away; Kuroo knew you more than everyone else in the World, and you knew him.

“Kita he believes in you, in his team. I think you should too,” your hand hovered his. “He’s confident, it’s something, isn’t it? And I’m sure you’ll make it, Inarizaki is a strong school.”

Kuroo smiled and you did the same. “I guess you have a point.”

“Serves me right for being the best on Chemistry,” you mocked.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m pretty sure, second best.”

His eyes closed minutes later, though you allowed yourself to stare a little longer. Kuroo’s bedhead hair was a dark spill against the pillow, his dark lashes entirely black. They lay against his cheekbones, fine and soft as dusted soot.

You didn't touch. You rarely touched when sleeping in bed together. As kids, you'd fought over the blankets, kicking each other against the mattress and sometimes starting a pillow fight that caused Kuroo's grandma to scold you both. That's when you two decided to put books between each other to settle the arguments of who was encroaching whose side of the bed. Now you'd learned to sleep in the same space, but still kept the distance of the books between each other. A memory that once brought joy to your heart now is destroying your insides with a catastrophic pain.

Sometimes you wondered what it would feel like to have his strong arms wrapped around your body and to sleep with his steady, hot breathing against your neck. You could see his broad shoulders and the marks on his right arm, the same marks you knew by heart, and was able to trace it perfectly even in the dark.

I love you, Kuroo Tetsuro. You thought, but those three words were far from enough. Your love for him was as vast as the ocean was deep. You once heard a story about the Sun’s love for the Moon. How he loved her so much that every night, he died just to see her shine. It was a tragic, heartbreaking story, but it was the closest to your feelings for Kuroo that you ever found in words.

One day Kuroo would find a girlfriend. Kuroo. Tetsu would be someone else's. One day there would be no crawling into each other's beds anymore. There would be no exchanging of secrets at 1 in the morning. Your closeness wouldn’t break, but it would bend and stretch into a new shape. You'd have to learn to live with that.

One day. But not quite yet.


	3. the desire to protect

Waking up, you noticed Kuroo was gone.

You sat up groggily, not surprised he left. Recalling the times when the pair of you were children and there was no problem with sleeping by his side, waking up midmorning, and eating pancakes with his family. But now you’ve grown, the world was malicious and the idea of having your sister caught Kuroo in your bed was enough thought to give you both headaches.

You disliked the idea of Kuroo leaving your apartment so late at night, but there was no other option available. In the beginning, your sister woke with the noise all the time, and you had to cover him up by saying that you tripped when getting up to drink water. Now, Kuroo was used to sneaking through your window. Now, he left quietly, and if it wasn’t for the smell of his shampoo on your pillow, you could forget he was even there in the first place.

Glancing at the clock by your nightstand, you realized it was six in the morning, earlier than you usually rose, and the room was lit with a bluish-grey tinge. Your navy-purple sheets and blanket were tangled down at the foot of the bed. When you put your hand against Kuroo's pillow, it was still warm — he must have just left, you thought.

You got up and made your way to the kitchen. The morning was hotter than yesterday, though you still felt chills when your feet touched the cold ground, the sensation adding to the uneasiness in your heart, something that always seemed to appear when Kuroo left your apartment. The only problem with sharing the bed with him as a coping mechanism was that you two slept; you rarely talked, drinking in each others’ presence instead of speaking up. Most of the time that was enough comfort, but sometimes it wasn’t.

You didn’t know which one happened, after all, he left when your cheek was firmly pressed against the pillow and your eyelids moved along with your dreams. 

“Good morning, Y/N,” your sister called.

Her tall figure was standing near the balcony. She had her back pressed against the fridge and her arms firmly crossed over her chest. The purple marks beneath her eyes, along with the state of her clothes, showed how tired she was.

“Sis,” you worriedly answered. “When did you arrive?”

She motioned her right hand in the air, a clear sign that you shouldn’t worry. You knew better than to debate with her, deciding to take a look at the microwave. The smell was familiar, but not as strong as it should be.

“Are you microwaving coffee?” she nodded. “Instead of making a new one?”

“Look, Y/N, I worked the whole night and I must come back in five hours. I’m sorry I wasn’t in the mood to brief new coffee,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t a personal attack, Sis,” you whispered. “I can brief some coffee for you, I was going to prepare tea anyway.”

She looked at you with wide eyes. Your sister was used to competitions. Being a female prosecutor was hard, especially with the whole sexism she faced every day; that’s why most of the time she’d take every single comment as an attack. You couldn’t blame her for it, but you also couldn’t say that her snarky comments didn’t hurt either. 

“You should take a bath. I brought the bath salt with a cherry aroma that you like," you offered. "Plus you seem tired,” she sighed, turning the microwave off. 

“Is it that obvious?” you nodded, causing your sister to smile a little. “Thank you, Y/N, but you’ll be late for class.”

“Class only starts in an hour and a half, I’m sure I’ll be just fine,” with those words, your sister finally agreed, retreating to the bathroom.

You boiled the water for your tea and briefed her coffee, being able to forget about Kuroo and volleyball for a while. You focused on the task in hand instead, imagining how sweet it would be if your sister let her guard down more often like today. You just wanted her to trust you.

She came back fifteen minutes later looking better than before, though her eyes were small and she walked slowly, probably too sleepy to function properly.

“Thank you,” she said and you shrugged, smiling at her before leaving.

The hot water of the bathtub was magical, healing the stress from your body. Unfortunately, you could only enjoy it for ten minutes, your responsibilities calling you back to reality. 

Five more minutes and you were ready. You bid goodbye to your sister, leaving your scarf behind this morning, opting for a shirt with long sleeves and a high collar, praying for the weather to be stable today. 

The walk to school was peaceful, but you couldn’t say the same to the place itself. The moment your feet passed through the huge metal-made gate, you heard screams in the distance. It was normal, considering how loud teenagers could be. What made you worried was the small crowd gathering around the center.

You walked closer, seeing in between the students’ bodies that someone was being hit. You felt disgusted when realizing the others around you were cheering or laughing. You made your way through the crowd, finally reaching the two students.

One of them was a stranger, but judging by his face you’d say that he was a first-year; the other was someone you knew very well. Ueno Renjiro was a third-year like you, he had terrible grades, to say the least, but his basketball abilities were remarkable. Thanks to that, his popularity grew. Ueno was a troublemaker that you knew very well. 

“WHO’S NEXT?!” he screamed, turning on his feet to see the others. “WHO WANTS ONE MORE?”

You walked to him and he turned at you with hungry eyes, probably imagining that you were another boy begging to be punched. His whole demeanor changed when Ueno realized who was standing in front of him, he suddenly looked smaller.

“Hi, Ueno,” you said, walking further when he tried to retreat. “We still on for after school today? Class 5, second floor, 3:30?” Ueno gulped, nodding nervously. “I hope you’ve been doing your homework," you sighed. “Last time I was really disappointed with you.”

“I’m sorry, I-,” he tried to approach you. 

“Ueno, how about we go to class, hm? How ‘bout that?” he spared you one last glance.

“Fuck it,” Ueno said, grabbing his backpack from the floor and walking away.

Slowly, the others did the same, complaining and calling you Miss President once again, probably because you ruined their fun — if you could even call watching a teenager being bullied an amusing event. You ignored them all, offering your hand to the boy bent on the ground. He held his belly, and by the purple mark on his chin, you could say that he was punched on the face as well.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” he whispered, getting up with the help of your hand. 

The boy was taller than you, almost the same size as Ueno, though his face was so young that he couldn’t scare a cockroach not even if he tried. 

“Are you seriously apologizing for being beaten?” You asked, and he shook his head.

The boy started to walk away, though you could see it was hard for him to do it so. You sighed, quickly matching his pace and stopping in front of him.

“What’s your name?” the younger’s eyes widened. 

“W-why’s that for? You don’t intend to tell the teachers, right?” You rolled your eyes.

“Not only did Ueno punch your face, but your head also hit the ground. You’re walking weirdly, I need to make sure you didn’t suffer a concussion,” you explained. “So, _what’s your name?_ ”

“S-Sakamoto Hiro,” you moved your head to the side, encouraging him to keep talking. “I’m from Class 3, 1st year. I’m a part of the volleyball team. My parents’ names are-”.

“Ok, Sakamoto, don’t need to tell me all that.”

You processed his words. Volleyball team. Your friends probably knew him, not only that but they taught him volleyball as well. You couldn’t quite remember if they had morning practice today, though, judging by his anxious demeanor and his uniform, it was a little obvious.

“We’re going to see a nurse,” you stated, causing Sakamoto to gag.

“N-no, I really shouldn’t, I have-,”.

“Morning practice, I know, I’m friends with your Captain,” you fished your cellphone from your pocket. “Who I’m talking to right now. I’ll tell Kita that you’re arriving late because we’re going to see a nurse.”

Sakamoto was at a loss of words, conflicted, to say the least. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before conceding, walking by your side as you two reached the infirmary. Sakamoto decided to lie, denying the beating. You, on the other hand, stayed quiet through the examination. Luckily, he didn't suffer a concussion.

You decided to speak only when the nurse left the room, the professional stating that Sakamoto should at least take a ten-minute break before walking again. 

“So no telling the nurse about the bullying?” you inquired, he sighed.

“You were the President of the Student Council, I’m sure you know how the director would react,” Sakamoto answered, his voice was small.

And unfortunately, you knew it quite well. The director also forced you to teach Ueno the subjects he failed at — and he failed all of them.

Ueno was one of the tallest men you’ve ever seen. He also had an eyebrow piercing, his eyes were painted dark blue and his hair was brown. Apart from being gorgeous, Ueno was also a prodigy. Last year Inarizaki went to the Finals of the Basketball Nationals, and half of the points were his. Then, no matter how much you insisted to point out Ueno’s behavior, the director decided to turn a blind eye. You figured that the lack of professionalism from the said man was definitely because Inarizaki couldn’t afford to lose their best shot at winning the Nationals this year. 

“Is he doing that to everyone?” you wanted to know, but Sakamoto shrugged.

“I heard that only the first-years he dislikes, apart from the ones that are from the basketball club,” you nodded, Ueno couldn’t afford to be on bad terms with his coach. “I guess he’s being harsh with the volleyball club in particular because our team is strong this year as well.”

“But I’m guessing only the first years?” Sakamoto nodded. “Typical of a coward.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse came back with two allowances signed by her. You only needed to give it to your teacher before entering the class, for him to know that you had a reason to be late, and you'd be fine. You watched as Sakamoto’s long body left the room, his dyed blond hair being the last thing you saw before you parted ways.

Apart from the sound of your shoes against the floor, the hallway was quiet. You checked the nearest clock, sighing in relief after realizing you were only twenty minutes late. With that in mind, you came up with the stupid idea of walking faster, barely assimilating how slippery the floor was.

Your shoes decided to betray you, causing your feet to trip on each other. You waited for your cheek to meet the strong scent of the cleaning materials used to on the polished floor, but instead of it, when you opened your eyes, Kuroo’s hand gripping your wrist, as his other was placed on your waist.

“Hi,” you muttered with a stupid smile.

Kuroo turned to look at you. For a moment he looked dazzled, as if he were looking into the sun, though the sky was full of clouds — you could feel its chilliness, grey and cold against your covered back.

Kuroo smiled. A wave of relief washed over your body when you spotted the familiar smile, lightening up his face in mischief, sending shivers over your skin.

“Wow, Y/N, you keep falling for me,” he joked.

Even with the crazy beating of your heart, you still managed to lie. “Kuroo, you’ll always be the boy of eight years old who puked on my hair when we were traveling to the beach, don’t flatter yourself.”

His smile faltered. It was subtle, and if it wasn’t for your years of friendship, you’ve might let it slip. Kuroo was always in control of his emotions and expressions, inciting you to assimilate him to a Russian doll: with so many layers that no matter how much you tried to open it, you’d still find a new one just as tricky to get through, if not more.

“You’re still holding me though, I’m sure your lover girl won’t find it amusing,” you provoked, secretly anticipating his answer.

Kuroo tch-ed. “Miyuki is boring,” he said, freeing you out of his grasp. 

“Rude! I thought she was the smartest, the most perfect girl-,” Kuroo interrupted you by flicking your forehead. 

“Don’t remind me of that,” he groaned. “I just realized some important stuff, that’s all.”

Before you could question him about it, one of the teachers appeared, looking at you with a deadly glare. “What are you two doing out of class?”

“Oh, I had a headache,” you lied, showing the nurse allowance. “I was coming back when Kuroo-”

“Stopped her to ask what time it was,” he finished your sentence. The teacher didn’t buy it completely, but your allowance seemed to be enough for her to shrug it off.

“I’ll accompany L/N-san to her class, and I suppose your morning practice is soon to be over, Kuroo-san, so go change,” she ordered and Kuroo gulped.

The homeroom teacher held a light small talk with you as you two walked side by side. She, just like many other educators of Inarizaki, liked you. L/N Y/N, the responsible and reliable President that did her job perfectly.

“Thank you, Kawakami-senpai,” you said, bowing as she dismissed you waving her hand.

“Don’t apologize, it was my pleasure.”

You bid her goodbye, making your way to the class. You tentatively knocked on the door before opening it, the chemistry teacher raised an eyebrow but her gaze softened when you explained the situation. She was younger than the others and nicer as well, Mrs. Miura was a reliable friend — if you could call her that — and she helped you a lot when you became President on your second year. She saw you as more than a model student and understood the pressure you were under, Not rarely, the sweet woman would even lend you a shoulder to cry on.

Throughout the lecture, you tried your best to pay attention. The only thing preventing you to do it was that your mind kept wandering to Sakamoto’s fragile brown eyes. What would your father say — the man who always tried to do what was right — about this situation? Would he be proud of you? Would he encourage you to be their manager, to help others?

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you only realized that Kuroo was trying to get your attention when a piece of paper found itself on top of your table. His handwriting was marked in green and you could see a lot of exclamation points.

_“So **you** were the one who protected that kid?” _

You giggled. You always found it amusing how Kuroo sometimes talked like an old man, even though he was barely eighteen. Your answer was short. _“Yeah, no biggie. Why?”_

Kuroo rolled his eyes when he made contact with the paper again, about to scribble a lot of curses when Mrs. Miura called his attention.

“Kuroo-san, would you like to share your talk with the rest of the class?” she questioned, your head met the table as you tried to hide.

When your eyes opened again, you saw Kuroo swallowing the paper. He smiled and gave you a thumbs up. If Mrs. Miura didn’t like you, she’d probably send you both to the principal’s office, but she probably judged the embarrassment as enough punishment.

The first period was a breeze, though Kuroo seemed to be dying to know more about your encounter with Ueno. You dodged his insistent questions, excusing yourself to the bathroom and leaving the whining mess called Kuroo Tetsuro behind. You knew you needed to find Kita before your bravery slipped away like water being drained in the bathtub.

You were almost running at this point, catching his steps quite in time.

“Kita-san, hi! Can we talk for a moment?”


	4. the nuance of a beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! thank you guys so much for the kudos, they inspire me to keep writing as I know someone out there is reading my work, hehe. I'm aware 27 may be a small number but that's huge to me tbh, I never expected to achieve more than 5 kudos lmao.  
> anyway, thank you once again and I hope you enjoy this chapter. <3

Your timing was terrible. The bell rang up over your heads, announcing it was lunchtime. Both you and Kita were in the middle of the hallway when the mass of students started leaving their classes, and you were being crushed, your body pushed towards Kita’s.

Ever the gentleman, his hand grasped yours firmly as he guided you to the side, your backs pressed against the cold metal of the lockers, trying to avoid the crowd.

Kita said something, but the words were swallowed by the noise made by the students. You knitted your brows together and got closer to him, trying to hear what he said. Kita took it as a sign to leave the place, walking you to a less crowded place, far away from the noisy cafeteria.

The two of you made some small talking as you walked aimlessly through the halls. Being the patient man he was, — he wouldn’t have been chosen a captain otherwise — Kita didn’t seem to care about your nonsense rambling nor to wander around with you. 

Eyeing the male by your side, you recalled how reliable his presence was. You also never missed the glimpse of hope his eyes held. Those features were always reassuring, and it was one thing you loved about his friendship.

You took your time and he never tried to fasten your words nor pressured you. When words failed you, the gray-haired boy would gaze at you and clearly state that no matter your decision, he’d still be by your side.

A feeling you only realized you so desperately needed when he gave it to you.

You halted your steps and turned to gaze at him, mouth ajar, internally preparing to give him a response. “So, I thought a lot about your request, as a responsible person would.”

The playful tone of your voice stated the contrary, he giggled. “Sure thing if you call _ignore_ and think _synonymous_.”

You showed your tongue. Adjusting your posture; hands firmly crossed behind your back, the latter arched in a strange angle. You pretended that you were a princess about to say an important discourse, something you normally wouldn’t do. But it was Kita, after all.

“And I decided that it’d be unfair to leave you managing the twins alone,” Kita rolled his eyes, though a huge smile already showed its signs on his face.

“Translating: you stood up for Sakamoto-san and now you’re feeling the urge to help.” you gagged on your fake speech.

Kita always has been perceptive, he could see your feelings as if you were an open book. But this time it was impossible for him to know this, _unless_ …

“Are you a stalker, Kita-san?” he laughed openly and you felt your cheeks getting warmer.

“No, [Name], but when you go against a popular troublemaker people tend to talk about it. _Especially_ when you do it in front of a crowd.”

You averted your eyes from him, only thinking through this side now. How many people knew about it now? Did you really help Sakamoto, considering the exposure he was now under?

“When you sent me that message, at first I thought he was just constipated,” Kita commented.

“How would I even know if he was constipated?” you interrupted, causing Kita to shrug.

“Don’t know, you’re the biologist here,” he answered.

“Kita-san, with all due respect, what the fuck? I guess I’d know if he farted in front of me, which, by the way, didn’t happen,” he laughed once again.

“You’re unlucky though because imagine our surprise when Atsumu kept recalling the image of you arguing with Ueno while Sakamoto was on the ground.”

You stared surprised at him, the thought of being seen only now crossing your mind. The act of ignoring others’ glares and comments came so naturally to you that sometimes you forgot that they could still see you.

“The Miya’s and Suna saw a half of it,” he continued. “And believe me when I say, Atsumu wouldn’t shut up about it,” you groaned.

“Couldn’t my act of _eternal bravery_ just go unnoticed?” Kita giggled.

“They only stopped when Kuroo left the gym, that’s when we realized how anxious that conversation was making him,” he added.

Kita’s words brought light to the past events, explaining to you how Kuroo found you in the first place and why he seemed so eager to know more about your day.

“Not saying what you did was wrong, but I do not approve either,” Kita scolded, his tone was now scary and you felt small, not imagining that your scene with Ueno would cause such a commotion.

“I’m sure Kuroo will lecture me enough,” you whispered. “Can we just talk about the whole ‘me being a manager’ thing?”

The VB captain sent you one last glare before his expression broke in a contagious smile. You took it as a good sign and internally sighed in relief, allowing his joy to seep into your cold walls of misery. 

He proceeded to explain the bureaucracy. You’d have to sign some papers — something you grew used to — memorize their schedule, fulfill their water bottles, and be as patient and supportive as you could. Kita didn’t need to say it with full words, you knew about the Miya twins and their personalities already. Six months of hearing the groans of your friends were quite enough time for that. 

“What about Suna?” you questioned, surprising Kita.

“How do you know about him?”

“You just told me,” you explained. “That he saw me this morning. I assumed he was a volleyball player as well, am I wrong?”

Kita shrugged, you two started to walk again. “No, he indeed is.”

You nodded. Something seemed to be bothering his thoughts as he grew terribly quiet after the exchange of those words. When you two reached your class’ door and you were about to get in, he decided to speak again.

“Don’t listen to Kuroo’s words about Suna though, I’m sure they’re nothing but lies.”

Kita bowed and left before you could learn the reason why. Kuroo wasn’t one to speak badly of others without an inference, though sometimes his words could be, indeed, childish. You made a mental note to ask Aran about it later and sat back on your chair.

Kuroo wasn’t there and you weren’t surprised. He disliked the idea of spending lunchtime inside, so he was probably walking around the hallways, speaking very loudly about something that excited him.

You heard an annoying commotion, seeing Ueno right in front of you the moment you decided to lift your head from your book. He looked troubled, fidgeting his fingers nervously. His head motioned to the chair beside you — Kuroo’s desk — and you shrugged, assuming he was either asking for your friend or for permission to sit by your side.

“You won’t quit teaching me, right?” Ueno inquired, taking Kuroo’s chair and sitting on it.

“I won’t,” you reassured. “Though I’ll think otherwise if you keep bullying the others.”

Ueno sighed, scratching the back of his head. You knew little about his family’s condition but a thing about his demeanor said that they were struggling. If it was with money or something else, you didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“And I’m not the one you should be saying those words to,” you retorted. Ueno smiled a little.

“I was stressed,” Ueno tried.

“That’s not a plausible reason to hit others. I don’t think there’s even one.”

“What if we make a deal?” you knitted your eyebrows. “You keep teaching me until the end of the year, and in exchange, I’ll leave the others alone.”

You sighed. “I’d love it if you stopped doing that without waiting for something in exchange.”

Ueno got up. “Is that a yes?” You motioned your head affirmatively. 

“I’ll be a manager this semester though, so our study time together will shorten.” 

Ueno was surprised but didn’t ask any further. He had no right to, and he knew that. When he turned to leave, Kuroo’s tall figure was waiting, a grin plastered on his face.

“Lost something?” Kuroo questioned bitterly. Ueno passed through him with a strong bump of his shoulder.

“I always forget you can be scary when you want to,” you commented, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Did he threaten you?” his tone was as scary as before, your best friend probably wasn’t very fond of your joke.

“No, Kuroo,” you answered, watching as he sat closer to you than before.

“Atsumu told us he almost punched you.”

“It was only because he thought I was someone else, Ueno wouldn’t punch me, this would destroy his chances of going pro,” Kuroo rolled his eyes.

“So you assumed that and decided that it was a great idea to go against someone taller than me?” 

“What is that argument even?” you asked, slightly annoyed.

Kuroo massaged his temple. “I was worried, that’s all. Don’t want anything bad happening to you.” He sincerely retorted.

Your expression softened as you observed how the weak rays of the sun shone on his features. His beauty could tear your heart apart like a dagger, you thought, but you did not love Kuroo because he was beautiful.

_He was beautiful because you loved him._

You saw the way he looked at you, eagerly waiting for a response. You had to reassure him you were fine and you promised to never try to pull such an act again. He was worried, the wall that hid his true feelings from you was broken with abnormal strength. It was rare for Kuroo to be as crystalline as water, even for you, but he was different now. As if a tight knot untied itself inside of him and changed his cognition. You were scared to be someone new to Kuroo now.

Your conversation was cut short when the Japanese teacher arrived. 

When the class ended, you didn’t have the opportunity to talk to Kuroo again, as he went to practice. You also didn’t have the opportunity to see Aran and ask about Suna.

You made your way to the principal’s office and so happened to meet Inarizaki’s coach there. He was just leaving when you approached him, and as Kita stated earlier, he was excited to have extra help.

“I think I got it, Oomi-sensei,” you said, walking by his side while reading some of the papers he gave you.

“That’s great to hear, [Surname]-san. I’m guessing the teachers weren’t exaggerating when they told me you were a fast learner,” the coach answered and you blushed violently.

“Thanks,” your voice was a mere whisper. You weren’t the best at receiving compliments.

You two were near the gym by now. “I suppose you can start tomorrow?” you agreed with a nod. “I’m shocked to hear that you don’t know much about volleyball, considering who you’re friends with,” he said with a surprised tone.

You giggled, not knowing how you were capable to avoid volleyball for so much time yourself. Your eyes focused on the papers again, Oomi-coach was kind enough to list you the players’ names, but you failed to memorize them all as your attention kept going to two words in particular.

“If you have any questions, you can ask me tomorrow-” your brain didn’t process completely what he said, as your thought kept being drawn to a particular player. The words left your lips before you could stop them.

“Ok, so, about Suna Rintarou-” you started, pointing to the said name written in black ink.

“Well, I believe every doubt you have can be solved by Suna himself,” you choked when the coach’s voice raised in a shout. “Oi, Suna! Come here and help our manager out!”


	5. stars around my scars

Suna's physical appearance was different from what you've expected. His back was broad and strong, hidden within the layers of his wine-colored school jacket. His hair had the shade of rich soil after rain. When he got closer, you noticed the way his locks would change its color when in contact with the bright light.   
His eyes reminded you of the beginning of a summer morning. When the hue of dark-moss green leaves bathed themselves in the sun-rays until they achieved a brighter tone.  
Looking at the beautiful shade of green, you realized that, if you were to lose yourself in something, you wish it could be in Suna's eyes.  
"What's up?" He questioned. Your eyes widened. His voice had an unexpected tone. It was low, with a trace of huskiness and a hint of unused power, one that he must only show when shouting.  
"This is [Name]," presented the coach. "She'll be our manager until the end of the year."  
Suna bowed politely, his eyes never leaving yours. They held a hunger that sent shivers down your spine, and if it was any other person, you'd drop your gaze.   
But the boy before you was like a magnet, pulling you closer, _dangerously_ closer.  
"Ooh, it's been a while ever since the last time I saw sparks between teenagers!" The eldest commented animatedly.  
You averted your eyes from Suna's as if they were lava, your cheeks feeling warmer by each passing second.  
The coach spoke with an amused tone. You tried to focus on him, but Suna was stealing your attention away. His gaze held intensity, one you've never seen before. When you eyed him once again, his expression was unreadable.  
"Is that all?" Suna inquired and you didn't miss the change in his demeanor.   
"Don't know," answered Oomi-sensei. "Is it, [Name]?"  
You wanted to find a pit and bury yourself on it.   
"Yes, it is." You confirmed.  
Suna shrugged, sparing you one last amused glance. You froze from head to toe, looking behind you to make sure no one was there. Your heart raced when you admitted that Suna was, indeed, aiming at you.   
_Feels good_ , you thought.   
"Now I'm scared you're a fangirl, [Name]." Oomi-sensei teased.  
"I'm not, I swear!" You exclaimed, turning to him.  
He laughed, waving his hand. "Don't forget that practice starts at noon tomorrow."  
You nodded. A distressed voice came along with a tall figure that was now standing by the door.  
"Coach, 'Samu just broke another bench!" The one you assumed to be Atsumu shouted.  
"What yer talking about, stupid pisshead asshole?" Another voice answered and the eldest sighed.  
"Keep scaring our manager away and I'll make you both run three extra laps!" Oomi-sensei warned, his voice louder than Osamu's complaints.  
Atsumu's voice was a high-pitch when he shouted. " _MANAGER_?"  
You laughed as the coach pushed the whining mess called Atsumu inside the gym. The last words you managed to hear were his, begging to see their new manager.  
The events from the last minutes sent warmth through your heart.   
You caught yourself wishing for more moments like those. Moments where you could laugh freely and talk with others your age.   
Two more seconds of reminiscence were enough for your feet to move. You made your way to the library. It was a quick walk, considering the small distance between the buildings.  
When you entered the place, the warmth coming from the air-conditioner seeped into your body. You tried to lose your shirt, but it was useless as the heat kept spreading.  
Silence enveloped your surroundings. The few students there were too absorbed in their readings to mutter a word. Then, almost like a sin, your shoes broke the comfortable quietness as they stepped on the wooden floor.  
Looking at the counter in the front, you noticed when the librarian spotted you. The man opened a smile that made you notice the characteristic wrinkle in the corner of his left eye. He was not the elderly type one would expect a librarian to be. If you dared to guess, you'd say he was in his forties.  
"Good Afternoon, [Surname]-san." He whispered.  
"Good Afternoon, Tadashi-san," you answered, bowing your head. "How are you today?"  
"Having the monotone day a librarian can ask for," he joked and you giggled.  
Tadashi-san used a pair of glasses — ones, you may add, that kept slipping to the point of his nose. His eyes were tinted in a soft shade of blue. While his hair was brown, with some white strands already making their way to his scalp.  
He motioned with his head for you to make yourself comfortable. The eldest assumed it was one of your current visits, the ones you did when you knew what you needed and where to find it. _This time was different_.  
You cleaned your throat. "Would you mind helping me a little, please?"  
His eyes shone like diamonds. "Oh? Which section are you looking for? I've been waiting for this request for quite a time now."  
"The sports section." You saw him choking.  
"Are you sick, [Surname]-san? I was waiting for you to ask me for something related to math—" your face contorted in disgust. "But _sports_?"  
You couldn't help but find his reaction priceless. His surprise was understandable, though. The last time you searched for a sports-related book was for a group project — your theme was soccer, for Kuroo's dismay.  
"I know it's out of the blue," you confessed. "But I'm the new manager of the volleyball club, and I don't have a _clue_ about the sport."  
The eldest's eyes softened. "It's unexpected indeed, but I'm glad you're trying new things."  
Tadashi-san then got up, his chair screeched against the floor. He walked to the front of the help desk, pointing with his left finger the path that should be followed.  
The library had dozens of wooden shelves, each book placed on them were arranged by subject and alphabetical order. The covers were placed sideways. The titles, exposed for those who wanted to read them, facing the small tables arranged around.  
There were no fiction books, as expected. You counted each title, seeing nothing but literature or geometry. The atmosphere was not magical, nor comfortable, as narrated in books. It was methodical. The place smelled like air-conditioning and print sheets.  
Kuroo once said that the library smelled of tiredness and despair, though you didn't know how he could relate such sensations to the aroma.  
"You're quite lucky, [Surname]-san," Tadashi-san stated. "Before the Nationals, we barely had any book related to volleyball."  
You laughed. "You mean before the _Miya twins_."  
He sighed. "Well, people _are_ interested in them."  
The librarian showed you a small shelf filled with volleyball related books. You sighed.  
"Thank you, Tadashi-san." He smiled.  
"No problem and good luck. It seems like volleyball is as painful as math to you."  
The man bowed and you reciprocated the gesture, watching as he marched back to his desk. Looking at the books, you grimaced knowing, the librarian was right.   
It didn't take a lot until you grew tired of everything related to volleyball, stretching your arms and sighing in defeat, your head turned to the side and you dared to stare through the window.   
The sky was still as grey as it was in the morning. One could call it a sad sight, but, when watching the wind take the leaves away from the branches, you couldn't imagine a more beautiful view.  
The passage of time was slow. The old clock made an annoying sound. On regular days, you didn’t find trouble ignoring the insistent tick-tock. But learning about volleyball through books was tedious. The task got you bored in a way that turned any noise into a distraction.  
You sighed. A quick look at the display on your phone informed you that it was past five in the afternoon. For Kuroo, whose training was about to end, the time had passed in a heartbeat. To you, every minute seemed to have been equal to an hour. You had no time to imagine if he had already left school when his name flashed on the screen.  
"HI, [NAME]! ARE YOU STILL HERE?!" He shouted against your ear when you picked up.  
You received some crossed glances from the remaining students and bowed down, whispering an apology.  
"Yes, dumbass," you answered. "I'm leaving the library, why?"  
"Shit, they must've heard me then."  
He was breathless, and his words, cut between heavy inspirations. That was the consequence of spending hours jumping and running after a ball, you supposed.   
" _I heard someone is becoming our manager_ ," he sang.  
With a little wiggle of your head, you said goodbye to the librarian. Your body went through the exit door, and the icy air ennobled your senses.   
Now, free from the judgment of others, your voice had risen as you responded. "I wonder who the unlucky one must be."  
"She's the unluckiest alive," Kuroo agreed.  
You giggled. "To bear with you, she must be."  
And as cliché as that sounds, you met in the middle of the corridor that connected both buildings. Kuroo was in the gym uniform, the wine jacket tied by the sleeves at his waist. He smelled of male deodorant and sweat.  
"You'll get sick," you warned.  
But it was understandable the less layer of clothing he wore. Kuroo had exercised during the afternoon, and it would still take him time to feel cold. Even then, you approached. Your fingers untied the weak knot masterfully, and you guided the left sleeve to the given arm.  
"You know I'm not cold," he answered.  
"I don't care," you replied. "Tomorrow is my first day as a manager, and the last thing I need is for you to miss because of the flu."  
Kuroo's skin was warm against the palm of your hand, you noticed while helping him put on his jacket. Kuroo's body, with all the marks on his arms and calluses on his fingers, was as familiar as the passage from your favorite book.  
"Stop looking at me and pay me a donut for the effort," you said, breaking eye contact.  
Kuroo followed your steps towards the exit. "You only helped me put on the jacket," he complained.  
You faked a gasp of offense. " _And_ I learned all about your favorite sport!"  
"Yeah, after almost a decade!"  
"Don't be ungrateful, Kuroo, and pay me a donut!"  
He snorted, but there were traces of a smile on his face. Kuroo would do anything for you, as he had already said hundreds of times.  
 _"If we were in an apocalyptic world," Kuroo started. "I'd rather have my arm cut off than having to see you lose a nail."  
His words carried all the honesty an eight-year-old could have. You blushed.   
"You need to stop watching these horror movies, Tetsu," you answered.  
"Well, but I mean it! I'd do anything for you!"  
"Anything?" He nodded. "Eat sand."  
Kuroo filled his hand with sand and shoved it into his mouth at once. You let out a cry of amazement and he smiled, grains of sand escaping through his half-open lips."_  
The memory was as sweet as an acidic dessert. Your heart swelled when you eyed Kuroo. He was now more mature than that child who ate sand for you, you thought. Nowadays, he ate paper balls with secret messages.   
His lips moved, forming words that you did not pay attention to. You saw a slightly higher part of the sidewalk, and you couldn't help but walk that way.  
"Look, now I'm taller than you," you said like you used to do when you were kids.  
You and Kuroo competed in childhood to see who was taller. Often, you would go up a few bids over stairs only to play around. The joke lost its grace when you turned fourteen and Kuroo grew fifteen centimeters.   
He looked up with a smile, pushing you to the side. Kuroo climbed the same sidewalk, resting his elbow on the top of your head.  
"You were saying?" He mocked.  
"That you're an asshole."  
"Ah, those young people today with their dirty words." He said, putting the back of his hand on his forehead.  
"Kuroo, we're the same age." You tried to argue, but he was already talking about the "privileges of youth that never came back."  
You guys had that conversation all the way to the donut shop. Kuroo was making false claims while you rolled your eyes. He bought you your favorite, but he said the hot chocolates were your obligation.  
You rolled your eyes, fishing your wallet from your backpack. "Fine."  
"I was joking," he said in a laugh.  
You almost punched him for making you have the job of looking for the wallet for nothing. But your hands were too busy, and Kuroo had been more generous than he should.  
"Did you understand the rules?" He questioned.  
You nodded. "I'll manage it, the hardest part is having to deal with you for the whole afternoon."  
"Shut up, [Name], you love me~" he sang. "Plus, Kita-san is happy you'll be there, he does believe I'll be easy to deal with."  
You laughed, ignoring the crazy beating of your heart. "You are a simp, even Kita-san knows that."  
He stuttered. "I'm not! What? Can’t I treat pretty girls their favorite food? Where is the chivalry of this generation?!"  
Kuroo had a way with words. He knew exactly how to reverse a situation for his own benefit. So it was almost impossible to embarrass him as now. _But you had a way with Kuroo._  
"Wipe your cheek before you flirt with someone, Romeo." You mocked.   
Kuroo passed his finger through the region, blushing as he noticed the icing sugar accumulated on his thumb.  
"I wasn't flirting," he answered.  
Kuroo said things on impulse when cornered, and you knew that. But hearing those words leaving his mouth so easily made the donut weigh on your stomach.  
"Do not dare to get sick," you ordered, trying to change the subject.  
"I wouldn't do that in my wildest dreams," he assured.  
"Do not say this with such certainty, you have a lot of them." You mocked.  
"I only dreamed of being a hanger once!" He exclaimed.  
Your sister's voice made itself present, breaking the playful atmosphere like a hammer falling into a glass wall. You looked up, seeing her head hanging from the window. She stared at Kuroo and waved.  
"[Name], would you mind helping me a bit?"   
"I'll be right there," you guaranteed, watching as her head vanished and the window closed.  
"I must be your only friend that Ayuri-san tolerates," Kuroo commented and you rolled your eyes.  
"She's only fond of you because you're "a good influence", and likes coffee." He knitted his eyebrows together.  
You started climbing the stairs to the main door. "It's strange that she only accepts her sister's friends if they like coffee," Kuroo muttered.  
You waved your hand in the air and opened the door. "Yeah, yeah."  
He walked away from the staircase and commented, in a louder tone. "I like coffee."   
You turned your head in confusion in time to see him scream at the top of his lungs. "In fact, I love it! I LOVE COFFEE!"  
Your neighbor, who was riding a bicycle at that very moment replied. "Good for you, man."  
You smiled closing the heavy wooden door and walking back to the apartment. As you waited for the elevator, you realized that moments like this had you to fall in love with Kuroo over and over again.


	6. dusted memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRO IM SO EMBARASSED IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO UNDERSTAND HOW THIS SITE WORKED LMAO.  
> also, i delayed the chapter for far too long as well, and i'm sorry. my inspiration decided to leave me to die, but i managed to survive it, hehe.  
> i know it's takin a lil long for more sunarin, but i promise it will be worth, i'm just builiding the basics first before jumping into action.  
> anywaysss, enjoy the chapter and please comment on it, your comments make my day.

“Fuck,” you complained, knowing that your old sports uniform was hidden somewhere in between the big pile on the basement.  
Your knees cried for help when you crouched down and started the search, but, at least the dust could do you no harm, as you were wearing a mask like your sister advised you to.  
The point of your fingertips darkened when you touched an old box, and you cleaned it on your pants. You found it odd for the basement to reunite such an amount of dirt, as it wasn’t long since the time you and your sister moved to this new apartment, considering that she couldn’t afford your old home anymore. You sighed. Things got a lot more complicated after your father died.  
Trying to distract yourself from the melancholic thoughts, you searched for the kitchen knife you had brought and torn the tape from the box’s top, unable to suppress a cough with the dust that came from the act.  
“I should’ve just bought a new uniform,” you muttered, searching inside of the object after its desired content. “It would’ve saved my knee’s life.”  
You knitted your eyebrows after taking the heavier items, seeing some papers at the bottom. However, most of them were torn or old enough to be unreadable. Your eyes scanned your sister’s old tests, her calligraphy was perfectly written with blue ink, and the teachers always wrote a compliment at the bottom of the paper. Seeing her perfect grades once again was enough to force you to call it a day, but when you were about to close the box, a wrinkled, particularly familiar, page got your attention.  
You grabbed the paper eagerly, groaning when realizing what it was about. The letter was dated from when you were seven, the time where you loved pens with bright colors and artificial scents of fruits. Noticing your words were written in purple, you supposed the scent to be grape or blueberry.  
Curious, you brought the paper next to your nose. “Nope, it smells like dust.”  
The scents weren’t that strong even when you first used the pens, though the same couldn’t be applied to the glitter, as your words still shone brightly enough to hurt your eyesight. When you started to read it, you groaned with the silly misspelling errors, imagining your family must have loved you a lot to pretend you were a born writer.  
“What do we have here?” You muttered to yourself.  
_“Dear Tetsu, tomorrou’s my birthdai, and my dad said you ar invited!  
From [Name].” _  
“Oh, Christ,” you said in between a laugh, reading the words you once wrote to Kuroo so many years ago.  
_“Dear [Name], my grandpa told me. I will buy you the best est of prezents. And I will bring my dog too.  
From Tetsu.”  
“Dear Tetsu, you ca’nt bring your dog. My sister dislikes animals.  
From [Name].”  
“Dear [Name], your sister is boring, my dog is the best est of dogs. I wo’nt come to your birtdhai if he can’t go.  
From Tetsu.”  
“Dear Tetsu, my sister told me you ar dramatic. You ar not invited to my birthdai anymore.  
From [Name].”_  
You laughed, reminiscing about your childhood with him. Since Kuroo’s house was just across the street from yours, you were constantly seen on each other’s mailboxes. As expected from children, you two thought there wasn’t a thing more mature than receiving a letter with your name written on it, believing that having a mail destined to you was the best est thing in Japan.  
When you fought, you asked your parents to deliver the said paper, refusing to look at each other in the eye, or being caught in the act. Whenever that request was made, the elders knew something was off, so they read the letters before delivering it, and that’s how Kuroo was, once again, invited to your 7th birthday — your dad allowed him to bring the dog.  
You can still remember your relatives’ faces when the animal pulled the tablecloth, knocking down the cake. Kuroo apologized profusely and cried for an hour before running to the nearest bakery. He, however, had no money to buy a new cake, which caused him to come back with a defeated look. But he did give you an amazing gift nonetheless.  
“[Name], are you done?” Your sister’s voice echoed through the house.  
“Shit,” you cursed. “Almost there!”  
You weren’t almost there. In fact, it took you half an hour to find your uniform when a message from an unknown number popped on your cellphone’s screen. You frowned, knowing for sure you haven’t given that information to anyone recently.  
You read the message out loud. “Miya Atsumu, you say?”  
With a shrug, you gave the reason behind Kuroo’s headache a _hello_. The young setter kept answering your messages eagerly, forcing you to turn off your phone in order not to disturb your sister. You only answered him a good night an hour later, after putting your uniform on the washing machine.  
Finally, you laid down on your bed, telling Kuroo about the stupid letters you found. He didn’t answer, though you could see he read your message. You shrugged, trying to free your heart from its uneasiness.  
Have you done something to upset him? Perhaps, Kuroo got angry after you mocked his younger self. You sighed, aware that your desperate need for his approval wasn’t healthy for you or your friendship.  
It took you some time to fall asleep, even if you were exhausted from the previous activities.  
“I need to grow some independence,” you concluded, having your words muffled by the pillow as dreamland stole your consciousness.

–

_You heard the sea from a distance while your feet were deeply buried in the cold sand. That was odd. You couldn’t remember traveling to a beach, especially one you’ve never seen before.  
“Then I must be dreaming,” you acknowledge, still walking when another voice made its way to your ears.  
“Is that so?”  
You turned, alarmed. The male’s voice seemed familiar, yet, you couldn’t find out who he was. The fact that he was faceless also didn’t help at all.  
“Yes,” you confirm, and you two started to walk side by side.  
“How can you be so sure?” He insisted.  
“You appeared out of nowhere,” you argue.  
“So? Maybe you were distracted.”  
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re still a faceless man,” he shrugged.  
“What a shame you’ll see me again soon, isn’t it?”_

–

You woke up, breathing heavily with a trail of sweat on your forehead. Your memories of past dreams never lingered for too much of a time, but you could still remember every second wasted at the empty, unknown beach. Was it a bad sign to fantasize about a faceless man? You couldn’t tell, and also, couldn’t care less.  
That dream would probably vanish for real in a few hours.  
“What time is it?” You pondered, reaching for your cell phone.  
A blink of your eyes was followed by another before a scream erupted from your throat. You were terribly late.  
Your feet — that you may add, had no sand on them — moved quickly, causing you to trip on a pillow you took down in your slumber.  
“Fucking pillow,” you hissed, doing your best to brush your hair and teeth, take a shower, and dress at the same time.  
You were jumping while trying to put on your socks when the doorbell rang. Almost falling and fearing the person to be your sister, you opened it, screaming once again that morning.  
“What the fuck are you doing here?!”  
“Geez, [Name], a good morning for you too,” Kuroo answered, inviting himself to enter your apartment.  
“You’re late for school!” You exclaimed, inserting everything you needed inside your backpack.  
“Way to go, Sherlock, but so are you,” he provoked, causing you to throw a pillow on his head.  
“Why are you late?” You questioned accusingly.  
He shrugged. “Went to school, you weren’t there. I presumed you got a cold after dealing with that basement trash and went to check on you.”  
“That’s very sweet and dumb,” you answered, putting on your shoes. “But I just overslept.”  
Kuroo held your shoulders to prevent you from falling, and you muttered a small thanks while trying to open some distance between you. Being that close to him right after promising yourself to be more independent felt as if fate decided to test you.  
“Ok, let’s go,” you ordered, kicking Kuroo out and closing the door behind you.  
Your feet jumped through the stairs’ steps, and you were awfully annoyed by Kuroo’s chill demeanor, considering your desperation to arrive at school as quickly as possible.  
“Weren’t you supposed to drink your morning tea?” He asked, reaching your side.  
“Do I look like I have time to prepare tea?” You bitterly answered and he raised his hands.  
“I thought you were a morning person,” Kuroo provoked, yet sighing with your reaction. “[Name] we’re late already, slow down. Walking faster won’t rewind time, you know.”  
You groaned. “Sorry, I just— you know my sister, if she finds out I arrived late twice in a week she’ll come for my kneecaps.”  
Kuroo nodded. “Her behavior is terrible for your mental health, she pretty much forced you to be an unbreakable and dependent machine.”  
You closed your eyes briefly as your best friend’s words sank in. It wasn’t as if he was exaggerating, you knew that was the pure, cruel truth, but that didn’t make it easier to accept.  
Your sister blamed you for everything after your father passed away. She called you a burden, one that ruined her future perspective and was eating away her life. In order to repay her efforts, you needed to excel in everything — from grades to taking care of the apartment when she was away.  
You felt terrible at first, unable to fight back, slowly losing your youth, but you grew used to it. Studying, reading, and being the Student’s Council President were things you could now do in your sleep, yet, you lost a connection to the others your age. Forced to mature and act like an adult, you failed to understand what were your colleague’s interests — video games? Animes? Perhaps American TV shows? You had no idea.  
It shocked you that Kuroo stayed, and even gave you an opportunity to make new friends, ones that helped you quit your previous, toxic lifestyle. You weren’t quite easy to deal with, not talking that much; keeping your cards close to your chest; refusing to show your weakness, but he stayed, and for that, you were grateful. Yet, how many years have you spent loving him deeply? Following his steps as if Kuroo was your flashlight? It was time to break this pattern. You were your own person, after all.  
“I’ll get over it,” you guaranteed. “The first step was leaving the Student Council, I’m just getting started!”  
Seeing your excitement, Kuroo flashed you a tender smile, slowly closing the distance in between your bodies. When you entered a quite crowded street that gave you access to the school’s gate, he placed himself behind you, his breath dangerously near your earlobe.  
“I’m surprised you missed Chemistry,” you commented, feeling suffocated with the silence that grew between you.  
Kuroo shrugged. “Are you kidding me? Chemistry is boring without you.”  
“It’s your favorite subject,” you argue.  
“And you’re my favorite, bossy, seatmate. Chemistry can’t exist without [Name] in Kuroo's world. It’s a law!” Kuroo winked.  
You giggled, punching his shoulder. “Stop the bashful flirting. That’s why people paint you as a fuckboy.”  
“What can I say? I’m charming and irresistible,” he answered, passing his fingers through his messy dark locks.  
“And an annoying nerd.”  
The male gave you a light punch when the phrase left your mouth, though the happiness that surrounded your mood vanished as the security waited for you at the gate. Her features were harsh, and her hands were placed on her hips with a tight grip. Placed on the improvised desk was a considerable amount of notebooks, each one designated for a class. You and Kuroo signed your names, the hour you two arrived, and the reason behind your late arrival. You knew for sure that they would show it to your sister.  
“We should’ve skipped classes today,” Kuroo whispered when you bowed to the eldest.  
“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo,” you hissed.  
You sat near him at the stairwell, waiting until the next period. He offered you half his sandwich, and you eagerly accepted, not noticing how hungry you were until the first bite.  
“Say,” he called. “Did Atsumu bother you already?”  
You gasped. “You! Stupid snake! You gave him my phone number, haven’t you?”  
“C’mon [Name], he’s annoying. I had to listen to his begs throughout the whole training,” Kuroo argued and you rolled your eyes.  
“Still!” You exclaimed accusingly.  
However, your best friend wasn’t listening to your words anymore, too busy mimicking the youngest with a forced accent and expression.  
“Oh, please Kuroo-senpai! I want to talk to her! She had a pretty voice! He doesn't even call me senpai!" Kuroo complained.  
“Leave Atsumu alone, Kuroo,” a laugh escaped your lips.  
He gasped, faking a betrayed look. “You’re on his side already? Our friendship means nothing to you?!”  
“You’re so dramatic," you answered with a roll of your eyes.  
For the first time in years of being friends with Kuroo, the silence that followed your last phrase bothered you. The quietness was nothing like the ones you once shared; it was dark, heavy, filled with unsaid words and conflicted feelings.  
Perhaps, Kuroo decided to change his ways towards you as well. You became aware of it; above all of the stupidness of love, he was your best friend. Unfortunately, Kuroo was also your mirror: his behavior would always reflect yours, as if you shared a deep bond that was now ruining the comfort you built.  
“You found the uniform?” He questioned, and you almost sighed in relief.  
“Yeah, I can’t back away now,” you joked. “Unfortunately for you, Mister, you’ll have to see me for the whole day.”  
“That’s nothing but a blessing,” Kuroo answered sincerely.  
Ah, there it is, this feeling once again, you’ve thought, when his eyes met yours.  
You heard of people having butterflies in their stomachs, and you knew what they meant. That flapping, uneasy feeling deep in your gut. But you had it now everywhere. Butterflies under all of your skin, fluttering, sending shivers that moved in waves up and down your body.  
You felt the urge to cut the butterflies’ wings, to force them to die along with your romantic love for him. And so you did.  
“Do you have any last information about your colleagues I should know about?”  
With your question, Kuroo knitted his eyebrows. He increased the distance between you, causing your heart to clench even if your brain seemed satisfied. You felt that way whenever you took a logical step: the nervousness and the conflict inside of you, building itself slowly through your lungs, consuming every thought you had before.  
Loving Kuroo was a constant war with yourself, one you grew tired of fighting.  
“Are you interested in anyone in particular?” He questioned.  
The mood changed, and you felt as if you were on a tightrope, kilometers up from the ground while walking on your tiptoes, desperate not to fall.  
“I saw someone yesterday,” you started, licking your lips. “He seemed interesting. Suna Rintaro, I mean.”  
Kuroo arched his back, stiff as concrete. Not even once you’ve seen him this way before. The pain behind his eyes that he so promptly covered, his feelings locked somewhere out of your grasp. Kuroo has never felt so distant.  
“He’s nice,” he bitterly answered. “Quiet, but sarcastic, and, I’d risk saying funny. You’ll like him.”  
Kuroo got up without another word and vanished inside Inarizaki’s corridor. You knew your feelings weren’t reciprocal; he couldn’t possibly love you. _But at that moment it felt as if he did._


	7. begin again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, i've been getting a lot of kudos lately! i'm so, so thankful for the attention you've been giving to my story, it honestly inspired me to write again, thank you very, very much! i hope you enjoy this new chapter as well. ♡

You turned to watch the gates once again, hearing Kuroo's loud footsteps reduce to whispers and then to nothing. Even with the causal noise coming from school, you could still feel your heart pumping violently in your ears; the unhealthy pulse ticking inside of you like a clockwork, clouding your thoughts as the sudden pain seemed to be the only thing you could process.   
It took four, maybe five, seconds before the hurt turned into anger; before you scrambled on your feet to follow his steps. Your breath raged, and you could hear your heartbeat even more clearly now; it was rapid, violent, and painful, refusing to calm down until you pulled his wrist and forced him to face you.  
"You don't have the right to be mad at me," you forced yourself to whisper. Screaming in a corridor when everyone inside classes could hear you didn’t seem like a great idea.  
Kuroo, however, remained silent. You could see his chest rising and falling slowly. The sound of his breath was even as if a fight with you wasn't enough for him to break a sweat. Watching it brought a wave of nostalgia, and you remembered that even as kids, your arguments followed this direction.  
The male would be collected, while you, despite the efforts to remain calm, would act on impulse. Kuroo always ended up being the one on the upper ground; perhaps because calmness was a personality trait of his, perhaps because the brunette never forced himself to be someone he wasn't.  
And, knowing that arguing with him was a lost cause, you gave in. "Kuroo, what's bothering you? I know something is."  
When met with silence once again, you reached over and laid your hand against his arm, feeling the uniform's fabric against your fingertip.  
"What is it?" You repeated.  
Kuroo turned his face away from yours; you saw him shudder underneath your touch before answering. "It's my mom."  
The taller man was still looking away, forcing you to meet the curve of his chin instead of his irises. "Your mom?"  
"I've been thinking about her," he explained. "More than usual. I mean, my father is always there for me on the end of the phone if I need him, even if he's away, working. But as far as I know, my mother might as well have died."  
You straightened your back, feeling guilty for believing his behavior had something to do with your recent acquaintances. "Don't say that. She's not dead."  
"I know," he whispered. "Yet, sometimes I can't help but wish that she was."  
"Kuroo," you warned, but he continued nevertheless.  
"You know why? Because that would've explained her absence. I could go on and say that my mother stopped reaching me because she is buried somewhere."  
You were staring at him now. Kuroo hardly ever talked like this. Not with so much bitterness in his voice.  
"I think she hates me," the man bit his lip restlessly. "I'd hate me if I was her. Sometimes I hate her."  
You swallowed. "Sometimes I hate my parents too, for dying. It's human, Kuroo, it doesn't mean anything."  
He turned his face towards you at that. Examining him more profoundly, you noticed the purple bags under his dark irises.  
"That's not the kind of hate I mean." Kuroo's voice lowered as he spoke. "If she was here, fuck, everything would be different. My grandparents wouldn't have to abandon their so deserved rest to teach me how to read. It wouldn't be immoral for them to leave for vacation, they wouldn't have to raise a child _twice_."  
"Kuroo, you didn't choose—".  
"No, I didn't." He freed himself from your touch. The sleeve of his uniform hung loose, and there was something hidden in his eyes that you failed to understand. "I didn't choose. Because if I'd ever been able to, I would have made different decisions."  
You knew you shouldn't ask. Not when he was a version of himself you had no experience of; yet, you also didn't know how to react nor to _be_ right now.  
"What would you have done differently?" you whispered.  
"I don't know if I would have wanted to stick by your side like this." The words came out clear, precise, and brutal.  
You flinched back. It felt like standing in the middle of a thousand roses, each one stinging your skin deeper with their thorns.  
"Do you mean that?" you insisted. "You wouldn't have wanted it? To stick with me?"  
Kuroo's eyes ran from yours as he turned on his back. The sun had come entirely from behind the clouds and it shone down through the windows, bright enough that you could see the redness in the palm of his hand caused by his previously clenched fists.   
"I shouldn't want it," he said. "I absolutely shouldn't."  
" _Kuroo_ ," you called, baffled, hurt and furious, but his figure was already a long, lean shadow entering your classroom.  
You could have caught up to him if you wanted to, you knew that. But you didn't want to. For the first time in your life, you didn't want to see Kuroo.  
Instead, you entered the bathroom, feeling alone and humiliated. When opening the sink, you shivered by the sudden contact with cold water, having to take a deep breath before cupping your hands and throwing the liquid right into your face.  
You hated yourself for feeling such pain over a comment; for allowing him to hurt you so deeply that your heart clenched at each passing beat. Even more so, you wanted to hate him; to hate Kuroo and his perfect smile, intelligence, and personality.   
_You wanted to hate him for the same reasons that made you love him._  
Locking yourself in the last cabin, you checked your cell phone. Five minutes. You had five minutes to pull your shit together. Taking a deep, even breath, you assimilated your best friend’s words — if you could still call him that.  
The last few years were exhausting. Your mental state got wrecked, you barely spoke to a single soul and refused to do anything but studying. You were a terrible company; annoyingly strict, humorless, twisted. But Kuroo stayed, he _stayed_. He jumped through your window every single night with cheap pudding and sodas from vending machines; he listened, advised, and helped you to get on your feet. Then why would he choose this moment, out of all the others, to confess such a thing?  
Perhaps Kuroo believed you weren’t ready until today; that if he ought to leave before, you would’ve broken. And as always, ever since the beginning of your friendship, the brunette was right. Yet, if you were given the right to be a bit selfish, you would’ve asked him to stay for just a little longer.  
Your time was up. What were your conclusions? None. Because you couldn’t read Kuroo’s mind; you couldn’t understand a thing about him anymore. And you were done trying to.   
You left the bathroom with your head up, determined to put on a content facade and go through the rest of your day. You entered the classroom a few seconds before your philosophy teacher, greeted him politely with a nod of your head, and proceeded to take a seat near Aran, ignoring the whispers and rude comments regarding your odd lateness.   
You were positive or at least trying to be. The universe couldn’t possibly ruin your day any more than that.  
“Alright, class! Let’s have an interesting conversation this morning, shall we?”   
You allowed your body to relax while listening to the chalk’s noise against the blackboard. However, the previous calmness vanished the second you eyed the white-colored words.   
“ _To love is to suffer and there can be no love otherwise,_ ” your teacher read it out loud. “Today, I want you to give me your thoughts on this beautifully written phrase of Fyodor Dostoevsky.”  
Ok, so the universe took your positiveness personally. “It wasn’t a challenge, fucker,” you whispered, wanting to get eaten by the ground and vanish.  
“No paper needed,” continued the man, pointing out to the open notebooks on the tables. “Use your voice. What Dostoevsky meant with that phrase?”  
Anxious whispers filled the ambiance, your classmates shared bewildered glances, too insecure, uncertain even, to mutter an answer. You couldn’t blame them, being puzzled yourself; it was quite the question, able to move endless conversations and debates, which, by the look on your professor’s face, was exactly what he wanted.  
You raised your hand, silencing the others. “Yes, [Surname]-san?”  
“I believe he meant that we can’t expect love to be a fairytale,” you started the monologue, feeling like a cliché. “It isn't as easy as reading a book or muttering the words from your favorite song; it’s destructive, disappointing, and cruel. Sometimes, it hurts so bad that you wonder if you can survive it. But you can. And _will_ , if that means getting the chance to love again.”  
Your professor flashed you a smile and turned to the blackboard, highlighting the words “suffer” and “love” with the chalk. “Thank you, [Surname]-san. Now, let’s focus on the _suffering_ that accompanies love; not the toxic, unhealthy one, but to feel a passion strong enough to cause you anguish. Why is that?”  
You watched as Miyuki raised her hand, noticing how Kuroo was sitting by her side this morning. _Typical_. “Perhaps because of certain circumstances? As in, being unable to linger by the person’s side the way you wished for?”  
 _The universe sure is a vengeful bitch_ , you thought, suddenly finding an ant's path towards the window much more interesting than the class.  
“Excellent, Hayashi-san. And that brings us to the last question: why is it painful to be distant from the ones we love?”  
The eldest scanned his students for answers, eager to reach the bottom of the debate. You couldn’t possibly understand his reasons, what led him to come with such a subject. Perhaps it was a brief introduction to the next one, or he intended to teach more of the said philosopher. You were about to check on your school’s book when your thoughts got interrupted.  
“Yes, Kuroo-san?” Out of all of the eager, raised hands, he _had_ to pick his.  
“Because when you love someone, they become a part of who you are. They’re present in everything you do. They’re in the air you breathe, the music that you listen to, and the words you read. You want their happiness more than your own, and you crave their smile, touch, and voice to the point of daydreaming about it. They invade your thoughts, they’re everywhere. They become so present in your life, that once reality comes, it seems as if you’re being eaten alive by your own heart.”  
His words left you astounded. In years of friendship, you haven’t heard him mutter a single word that intense, with such burning passion hidden underneath the lines. Kuroo thought about someone when answering that question; you knew he did, because you were thinking of a person yourself when voicing your own words. You knew his nightmares and fears because they shattered your heart in a million pieces, and you were also aware of his sweet dreams and aspirations because you embraced them as your own. And Kuroo felt the same way, or at least, you thought he did. But once again, until minutes ago, you also believed that you knew him.  
"Man," Aran called, and you turned your head to him. "When he falls in love it will be… Wow."  
You forced a giggle. "Right? Lucky girl, whoever she'll be."  
And that was it. No muffled tears, no leaving the classroom in a hurry just to be followed by him; you weren't running straight home to cry with romantic movies, eat a whole cake by yourself, and get hit by a sudden wave of determination to conquer his heart. You weren't lying about his future lover; she will be fortunate. You're just tired of pretending she can be you.

-

Eyes glued to your notes, you didn’t notice Aran’s body coming in your direction until it was too late. Your nose crashed in his chest, causing you to flinch back with enough strength to lose your balance. Aran laughed, holding your arms to prevent future accidents.  
“Hi, sorry,” you said, a little embarrassed. “It’s quite early, I didn’t expect to see any of you in the gym that soon—”.  
“I’m so glad you’re here,” the taller man interrupted, pulling you inside the gym. “Kita-san seems pretty melancholic this afternoon. He didn’t even clean the volleyballs!”  
You raised your eyebrows, confused as to why he would address you to such a matter. “Ok? He’s not quite vocal about his problems, I can’t see how I could help.”  
Aran grabbed your wrist gently, ignoring your previous words while guiding you to the males’ locker room. “He’s inside. And I think you can, actually. Help him.”  
Your ears turned red along with your cheeks. “You have _one second_ to explain your words.”  
“Not like that!” He exclaimed, even more flustered than you. His next phrase was almost inaudible. “It’s just that you’re the dark and twisted among us; I presumed you had more experience with—”.  
“Sadness?” You completed, finding the situation more amusing than you should. “I’m not dark and twisted. I’m just sadder than others for longer periods.”  
Aran laughed, relief washing over his features. “Right, right. Does this mean you’ll go in?”  
“No? This is a _locker room_! What if he’s naked?!”   
The man grinned before peeking inside the room. “Hi, Kita-san!” You heard some muffled response before Aran turned back at you. “He’s not naked.”  
And before you could drag the discussion any longer, your friend pushed you inside the locker room.   
At least he was right. Kita wasn’t naked. However, he seemed to be, indeed, troubled; his eyes held a clear sign of tiredness, along with paler skin and chapped light-colored lips. You got closer to him, that paid no mind to your approach whatsoever.  
“Hi there,” you called, trying to gain his attention.  
“You shouldn’t be here,” Kita deadpanned. “It’s for males only.”  
“Well, some of our friends were worried about you,” you confessed, sitting by his side at the wood bench. “And because I apparently am the Goddess of dark and twisted people, I thought I could lend you a shoulder.”  
“I’m fine,” Kita answered, eyeing the lockers in front of him.  
“Never knew lying became a habit of yours,” he sighed with your statement, hiding his head in between his hands. “You didn’t clean the volleyballs, how am I supposed to believe you’re fine?”  
He snapped at your words, muttering incoherences. “How do you know?”  
“I’m the Goddess of dark and twisted, remember? I know everything.”  
Kita scoffed, though you could see the ghost of a smile in the corner of his lips. He still needed some water and food, for sure, but at least you took a weight away from his shoulders.  
“That’s better,” you whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it either, I’m just glad I could help.”  
You got up from your seat, ready to leave the lockers to spare him some silence. “You did help.”   
“Is that so?” You questioned. He smiled.  
“Yes. I was… stressed, to say the least. With the captain duties, the pre-Nationals, and of course, studies,” Kita confessed. “I’m not one to worry much about this, it’s weird.”  
“Well, Kita-san, you’re no robot. It’s common to feel pressured,” you reassured, touching his shoulder.  
“Things will get even better now that you’re here, I’m sure,” he bluntly spoke, and you knew that he meant every single word. And to have Kita’s approval was oddly reassuring. It brought warmth to your heart, washing a fraction of the fears that desolated it.  
“I should get going. This is _still_ the male’s locker room and you _still_ need to clean your volleyballs,” Kita nodded with a fond look, whispering that he’d be there soon.  
You opened the heavy door, content that the hallways were still as empty as a few minutes ago. Quick on your steps, you went back to the court, giving Aran a positive sign with your thumb. He smiled at that, coming your way for more information.  
“Is he better now?” You nodded, earning a high five in return. “See? I knew you were fit for the job.”  
“What can I say? I’m the dark and twisted [Name],” Aran smiled. “Did you guard the door?”  
“Well, as you stated before, it is early. No one appeared, except for Kuroo. But I explained it all and he agreed to wait until you were finished.”   
Your heart skipped a beat. “Kuroo?”  
“Was that a problem? I mean, he’s Kuroo,” Aran worriedly explained.  
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Guess I was just overthinking, he’s Kuroo,” you responded, trying to put on an indifferent expression. But watching the brunette from across the room, you can’t help but miss those days when “He’s Kuroo” would’ve been enough to settle your nerves.  
However, time passed and things changed. A year ago, the whole thought of leaving the Student Council seemed like an impossible dream, too far away to be achieved; and to have a heated argument with Kuroo, one enough to stop you from talking, was almost a nightmare. But you managed it, as you should; because being strong and unbreakable were the only things your sister taught you well.  
“Everyone, listen up!” Called the coach, pulling you away from your thoughts. “We’re having a match today against the Kobe High School. Get prepped so that I can show you the starting line."  
While the rest of the team went to the lockers and Kita peacefully cleaned the volleyballs, you, once again, cleared the rules, positions, and plays with the coach, too insecure with your newly gained knowledge, wanting to make sure you were the manager Inarizaki needed.  
"Kuroo will be on the starting line?" You curiously questioned, to which the coach nodded.  
"He plays as a middle blocker along with Suna," explained the elder. "I choose whoever fit better against the other team's dynamics."  
Or at least it was supposed to work that way. Ten minutes in, and the coach seemed to be close to pulling his hair out. Kuroo could barely block a simple spike; his sets were off and whenever he entered the court, you held in your breath and prayed for the best.  
"I'm not an expert at this, but he seems to be distracted," you commented.  
With a sigh, Kita answered. "He is."  
"To say the least," murmured Suna with a scoff.  
You tried to focus, but seeing the game in real life was way different than what you could imagine when reading the books. They were faster, louder, stronger; sometimes you couldn't even find the damn ball until it hit the ground. However, judging by the coach's discontentment, you presumed that, at their peak, Inarizaki could be much more of a headache to you and the enemy team.  
The coach asked for a time out, which meant that was your cue to deliver water bottles. In the distance, you could hear the elder’s harsh words towards Kuroo, ones that you choose to ignore. You couldn't get used to that, not today, not ever; it was painful to see your best friend’s mistakes pointed out in such a way, even when he deserved it.  
"Suna, warm up," ordered the coach. The tension rose, and you, along with half the team, got uncomfortable.  
"I'm getting benched and you're putting _him_ instead?!" Exclaimed Kuroo. You never saw him lose that much composure before.  
"Yes, I am putting Suna instead; Suna, who _will be_ able to do his job as a middle blocker.” The male pointed to the door. “Get out. I only want to see your face again when you're calmer."   
You, who had your back turned, only heard as Kuroo aggressively closed the gym's door. With a sigh, you proceeded to deliver the bottles, smiling reassuringly to the players, ignoring Kita's piercing stare. It was rare for Kuroo to be that way, so people expected you to have answers on his behavior. Unfortunately, this time you had none.  
"Hi," you called Suna. His bottle was the last one to be delivered, which gave you a few extra minutes to talk to him.  
"Hey," he answered absentmindedly, stretching his arms.  
"I'm sorry," you continued.   
Suna turned his head at you, confusion written underneath the lines of his features. "For what?"  
"For Kuroo. He's rude today, sorry," you repeated, still holding his water bottle.  
"I get that, I just don't understand why you're apologizing for his mistakes. It had nothing to do with you, we're cool." Suna picked his bottle with a wink directed at you, before walking towards the coach.  
You were flustered, bewildered, even. Your mind insisted on reliving the moment over and over again; the way his lips curved into a grin when you approached and how his words held a deeper meaning than his expression showed. Suna got you hypnotized, and for the rest of the game, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. You weren't gazing around like a lost puppy anymore, and you knew you should be focusing on the game instead, but you _couldn't_.  
And then, it happened. As if time stopped for you to capture that single moment without losing a millisecond. The enemy spiker jumped, and you held your breath when Suna did the same. The ball hit his hands before getting smashed at the enemy's side of the court. Suna scored the last point, Inarizaki won the first set, and time started to function again.  
You simply knew. When he turned his attention to you and winked once again; when he stopped that spike, you _knew_ that you were desperate to meet Suna Rintaro.

**Author's Note:**

> this fanfiction has a playlist! feel free to check it out by clicking the link below <3
> 
> spotify: https://spoti.fi/32mIfT2


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